Finding the Lost Legion

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(Y/N)'s POV

"It shouldn't have worked. I think in any other situation, it may not have, but I must have gotten lucky" He explained, telling his friends how he was able to escape and get to them so quickly after being defeated.

He had explained everything, from his encounter with the wolf king, to the meeting with Tyche and finding his father's scythe, the only detail he removed was Fortuna's coin toss, and the fate of the satyrs.

When he got to the end, to how he had survived, he couldn't believe it himself, if he had seen it on the screen he would have called it a deus ex machina, but as he had lived it, he instead described it as simply a bit of support from the locals. He remembered it clearly...since it only just happened.

He didn't mean to do what he did, in fact he didn't even know he was doing it, as the desperation rose in his voice and he saw the shadow approach the scythe, (Y/N) reached out to the weapon.

He didn't have any physical strength left, so, he tried to use magic, he was trying to pull it towards him or something like Luke on Hoth. He knew his father could do it, that he could summon the weapon to his side from any distance.

(Y/N) figured he'd try, it was better than nothing, As the shadow reached out to claim the weapon for itself, a grin pulled horribly across his misshapen face, (Y/N) reached towards the weapon, closing his eyes.

He imagined himself reaching across the gap between himself and the scythe, like he was trying to win the final game in space jam. He imagined that his presence was stretching out towards the weapon.

The noise that followed was one he didn't expect, in fact, it was fair to say neither of them had expected it. But then again, who would expect the floor to erupt? A great fissure splintered it's way through the ground beneath the pedestal.

(Y/N) was suddenly very aware of the fact he was surrounded by mausoleums. Where (Y/N) had reached out for the weapon remained untouched, but the mausoleum wall behind it, where (Y/N) had traced his fingers across in the air in an attempt to reach out was decimated.

As the fissure cracked open wider and wider until it spanned five feet, the air ran cold, pouring out of the gaping hole, smoke and fog pouring out along side it, adding to the chill.

From that gap poured out a countless amount of souls. But not the normal ghosts and spirits one would see as a son of Thanatos, no, each was distinct, fully formed and powerful. Brighter than a lare and stronger than a specter.

The ghosts swarmed over the two of them, blotting out any light and filling the area wall to wall. While the shadow was raked with claws, and attacked with spectral weapons, (Y/N) was pulled to his feet, surrounded protectively by the ghosts, who gave him the strength he didn't know he lacked, allowing him to stand.

They led him towards the weapon, each of them laying a comforting hand on him as he passed, (Y/N) had never experienced anything like it, the closest being his fights with Hades, but these spirits were all acting of their own will, all choosing to defend him, not being controlled in any way.

(Y/N) looked towards the monster beside him and almost wished he hadn't. The flesh of the rotten zombie that it had possessed and twisted to inhuman proportions was torn away, swallowed by the mass of spirits.

Then, just like when it attacked Iris, it's true form was all that remained. "No!" It cried in anger, trying to shred it's claws through the ghosts and failing to do so, then it saw (Y/N), its eyes blazed with a golden fury and it lunged at him.

Even with the ghosts around him, even with his weapons at his side and all his training, in that moment, all (Y/N) could think was "I'm dead." He just stood there in shock as the shadow flew at him.

Heroes of Olympus Series. Annabeth Chase X Male Reader StoryWhere stories live. Discover now